“Should we call the police?”
He considered their options before giving a shake of his head. The local cops would dismiss it as an accident caused by the slippery roads. Besides, they wouldn’t have the manpower or the training to locate the SUV. Griff would bet good money that it was already stashed in a hidden location until it could be repaired.
“We’ll report it to Nikki when we see her,” he finally said. “She’ll have more resources.”
Carmen shivered and he reached to switch the heater on high. He ached to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but he’d already failed Carmen once by letting down his guard.
It wasn’t going to happen again.
He allowed his gaze to roam over the empty field before returning to the rearview mirror to keep watch on the road.
“It had to be one of my family, right?” Carmen demanded. “But how would they know we’re here?”
He considered her question. “They might have suspected we’d discovered the truth of the insurance money,” he at last suggested. “The logical place to search for evidence would be your grandparents’ home.”
“The evidence they already stole,” she muttered.
His jaw tightened. It didn’t matter if the actual policy was missing or not. Eventually he would be able to track down the insurance company and get a copy of it. What pissed him off was the knowledge that the bastard had intruded into Carmen’s home. How could she ever feel safe there again?
“True,” he agreed. “Or someone might have followed us from the hotel.”
She released a shaky breath. “This is insanity.”
“You’re not going to get an argument from me,” he said in dry tones, giving one last glance around before he shoved open the door of the truck. Even if he wasn’t one hundred percent certain that the attacker wasn’t waiting down the road for them, they couldn’t stay there all day. “I’m going to check the truck.”
He climbed out, grimacing as his feet sunk into the muddy field. His shoes would be ruined. No big loss. But his wet socks were going to make the drive to Chicago uncomfortable.
Moving down the side of the truck, he bent to examine the crumpled metal where the SUV had slammed into them. The impact had dented the side panel just behind the wheel, and a section of the tailgate, but the damage was mostly cosmetic. Now the only worry was whether he could get the thing out of the muddy field.
Oh, and whether there was still a crazed killer on the road who wanted them dead.
Climbing back into the truck, he shut his door and pulled on his seat belt.
“Well?” Carmen demanded as he ensured they were still in four-wheel drive.
“I’m glad I got the insurance, but it’s okay to drive,” he assured her, pressing his foot on the gas pedal.
The wheels began to spin, spraying mud and chunks of cornhusks behind them. Seconds later, they caught traction and lurched forward. Griff wrapped his fingers tightly around the steering wheel, turning them in a wide arc that took them back to the road.
Then he veered to the left. He still wasn’t going to cross the icy bridge. They would have to find another way to Chicago.
*
Carmen remained locked in her dark thoughts as they reached the interstate and headed north. How had her life descended into chaos? Each day seemed to bring a new attempt to terrorize her. If not outright kill her.
On top of that, she was still reeling from her less than spectacular homecoming. It was hard to be all warm and fuzzy when you suspected your remaining family had stolen three million dollars from your inheritance and were now conspiring to keep you from discovering their treachery. By any means necessary.
It wasn’t until Griff pulled the truck to a halt in a half-empty lot that she realized they’d already driven into Chicago, and were parked in front of the FBI headquarters. She narrowed her eyes as the early afternoon sunlight reflected off the large glass building.
Although it was a weekday, the manicured grounds that surrounded the area appeared empty. She guessed the agency was running with a skeleton staff during the holiday season.
Not waiting for Griff, Carmen unhooked her seat belt and slid out of the truck. She’d been too distracted to consider why they’d been driving to Chicago. Now she pressed a hand to her stomach, trying to ease her sudden tension.
She’d taken fewer than a half dozen steps when Griff was at her side, his arm wrapping around her waist. She leaned closer to his solid form. She told herself that she wanted the heat from his body. The wind was frigid as it howled around the street. But if she was being completely honest, she’d admit that the feel of him pressed against her side offered a welcome sense of security.
She wrinkled her nose, but she didn’t try to pull away from his tight grip.
Even Lois Lane depended on Superman every once in a while, right?
In silence they walked up the pathway and stepped through the front entrance. Carmen glanced around the long, narrow lobby. Like the exterior, glass seemed to be the major focal point. Glass wall, a glass crescent-shaped front desk, and polished marble floors.
It was all very shiny. And cold.
They moved to the front desk, where a man demanded their IDs. Then, before he could question them further, the sound of heels clicking against the marble echoed through the lobby.
“I expected you a half hour ago,” a crisp female voice said.
They both turned to watch the agent who walked toward them with the brisk steps of a woman in complete charge of herself and her surroundings. She was dressed in dark slacks and a snowy white shirt that should have looked severe. Instead, it gave her a sleek, elegant appearance. Her hair was a light shade of red, shimmering like copper in the sunlight, and smoothed into a knot at the base of her neck. The style emphasized the perfect oval of her pale face and the bright green eyes that were surrounded by thick black lashes.
Carmen felt an instant stab of envy. This agent was the tall, sophisticated sort of female she’d always wanted to be. Not to mention she had the expression of a true ball-buster.
“We had some troubles,” Griff said, moving toward the woman.
Carmen watched as they shook hands. Friendly, she decided, with none of the awkwardness that came from previous lovers.
“What kind of trouble?” the woman demanded, her gaze moving toward Carmen.
“First, let me introduce you to Carmen Jacobs,” Griff said in firm tones. “Carmen, this is Special Agent Nikki Voros.”
Carmen moved to stand at Griff ’s side. “Special Agent,” she murmured.
Nikki offered a brief smile. “Please call me Nikki.” The green gaze snapped back to Griff. “What trouble?”
Griff sent Carmen a rueful glance. He was clearly used to the agent’s one-track mind.
“Someone tried to ram us off a bridge.”
“You’re sure it was deliberate?” the agent pressed. “The roads are slick.”
“It was deliberate.”
She gave a small nod, pivoting on her heel. “Come with me.”
Griff reached to grasp Carmen’s hand, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze as they followed Nikki out of the lobby and down a hallway.
“Her bark is worse than her bite,” he assured Carmen.
“No, it’s not,” Nikki denied, pushing open a door to lead them into a small conference room. “Although I’m not a complete bitch.” She moved across the silver carpet toward a cabinet set against the glass wall. On the top was a tray with a stainless steel coffeepot and cups along with several bottles of water. “Would you like something to drink?”
Carmen shook her head, slipping off her coat. Griff took it from her, and hung it next to his on the hooks near the door.
“Nothing for me.”
“I’m fine,” Griff said.